


re⋆trouvaille

by bloominsummer



Category: K-pop, SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: ...fair warning but rating will change you know me ;;, Alternate Universe - College/University, Exes to Lovers, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Minor Choi Seungcheol | S.Coups/Lee Jihoon | Woozi, Polyamory Negotiations
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-16
Updated: 2020-10-08
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:54:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25930939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bloominsummer/pseuds/bloominsummer
Summary: In an attempt to avoid dealing with an old flame, Wonwoo inquires the help of a good friend to fake a relationship with him. That shouldn’t be as complicated as it sounds, until old and new feelings alike bubble to the surface and Wonwoo finds himself drowning in both Mingyu and Soonyoung.
Relationships: Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu, Jeon Wonwoo/Kim Mingyu/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Jeon Wonwoo/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi, Kim Mingyu/Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi
Comments: 14
Kudos: 89





	1. i told them i was lost in this world (wonwoo)

**Author's Note:**

> because 9 works in the minwonhosh tag is simply not acceptable...
> 
> master[ tweet ](https://twitter.com/bioominsummer/status/1294986700154744833)for updates  
> [click](http://freedomforthai-en.carrd.co) here

Choi Seungcheol is a dead man to Jeon Wonwoo. A dead man in all meaning of the phrase. First, he nagged Wonwoo to join this _stupid_ committee for this _stupid_ summer festival he's spearheading until Wonwoo got so sick of his nagging, he relented and agreed to lead the easiest division he could think of. Ticketing, right, which means he should only work on the days of the festival?

 _Wrong_.

It means he has to be present for morning meetings of the executive committee, too. And by morning, apparently it means 9 AM on a Saturday.

Saturday!

That, in itself, should be a crime for which Seungcheol is punishable by death. Not to mention how it’s already been 5 minutes past the hour and Seungcheol remains nowhere to be seen. If he’s going to drag Wonwoo out of bed this early, the least he can do is be punctual.

But then, of course, there’s the icing on the cake. When he finally walks through the door, Seungcheol drags in a familiar face with him. Well, Wonwoo supposes the face is as familiar one could be when he hasn’t seen it for what, five years now? He knows any hopes of pretence over the moment Mingyu’s eyes catch his and recognition bleeds into those handsome features of his, only well-sharpened by the passage of time. Wonwoo’s brain stutters incoherently at the sight of Mingyu, the mop of hair above his precious head a grand colour of silver, unlike the jet-black Wonwoo used to run his fingers through.

“Wonwoo-hyung…?”

“Oh!” Seungcheol exclaims happily, clapping like a circus seal.

Wonwoo wants to slap him thirteen ways into unconsciousness.

“You two know each other! Great. Mingyu’s going to be in charge of decorations so your jobs won’t really criss-cross one another, but, oh—Jihoonie!” and then Seungcheol’s gone off to greet his… whatever label he and Jihoon slap on their relationship, acting as distracted as a puppy whose owner just came home after a long day at work.

He leaves Wonwoo standing there to fend for himself, in front of the first boy he’s ever loved, except now Mingyu’s a man.

“Hyung.”

“Hey, Mingyu,” Wonwoo finally says. It comes out much more stable than he thought possible. Good. “It’s nice to see you.”

Mingyu stares at him like Wonwoo’s grown a second head. Which is a fair reaction, considering how things ended between them. He opens his mouth to say something, but then Seungcheol calls everyone to gather around the table for his opening remarks and Wonwoo excuses himself quickly before Mingyu can stop him.

He takes a seat next to Soonyoung, who grins at him and generously slides Wonwoo his iced coffee across the table. Wonwoo takes a small sip before he decides caffeine is probably not a good thing to have right now. His heartbeat is erratic even without the help of any stimulant and Mingyu’s gaze on him is downright penetrating—it only makes matters even worse. It’s hard not to shrink under those dark eyes.

“You okay?” asks Soonyoung, looking mildly concerned. “You’re pale. And not the regular you kind of pale, but _pale_ , pale. Did you have breakfast?”

“I’m fine,” Wonwoo lies.

Soonyoung doesn’t believe him. He lifts a hand to Wonwoo’s forehead. To check his temperature, Wonwoo promptly realises. After a moment, Soonyoung pulls away with a frown on his face.

“No fever.”

Wonwoo rolls his eyes. They’re barely a month apart in age but there are times when his friend would insist pulling the _I’m older so listen to me_ card to get Wonwoo to do whatever he wants. Most of the time it’s for Wonwoo’s own good, but the act can still be annoying at times.

“I told you I’m fine,” he dismisses Soonyoung’s concern. “Just—it’s too early.”

That seems to be an explanation Soonyoung’s conscience can accept. He looks away from Wonwoo just as Seungcheol starts to make people around the table do _introductions_ and it takes every last bit of restraint Wonwoo has in him not to jump across the table and strangle his hyung.

The round gets to Mingyu first before it gets to Wonwoo.

“Hi,” Mingyu greets everyone with a small bow. Good to know his manners are still intact, then. “My name’s Kim Mingyu, I’m doing Fine Arts, second semester. Looking forward to working with you guys.”

He sits back down after that.

Wonwoo thinks that’s it.

Again, it’s not.

“Oh, Mingyu knows Wonwoo!” Seungcheol supplies rather unhelpfully and then there are questioning stares thrown in Wonwoo’s direction. “How’d you two know each other again?”

“We—” Mingyu begins, “We. Uh.”

All the alarms in Wonwoo’s head are screaming at him to take control of the situation.

“Neighbours,” blurts Wonwoo, hoping to appease the crowd with the simplified version of the answer to Seungcheol’s question. “We were… neighbours.” That much isn’t a lie, but why does he feel guilty about saying it?

“Yeah." The light in Mingyu’s eyes dim. "Neighbours.”

Completely oblivious to what just transpired between Wonwoo and Mingyu, Seungcheol merely nods and moves his attention onto the next person. Though Wonwoo breathes a little easier, his thoughts are louder than they are before. Old memories resurface; flashes of images from times when Mingyu would look at Wonwoo the way he’s looking at him right now. Forlorn, with a dash of classic yearning thrown in there.

Wonwoo forces himself to look away.

He introduces himself monotonously when his turn comes, a stark contrast to Soonyoung’s subsequent bubbly intro. No one seems to mind, most of the people sitting around the table already know Wonwoo and his penchant for reclusiveness. Mingyu shouldn’t be any different to the rest.

When the dreadful icebreaker session is finally over, Seungcheol tells them they have two months to pull this festival off and he gives a little motivational speech at the end about how he believes in all of them. Jihoon helps him distribute the event’s proposal for everyone to read and the moment they are left to their own devices, Mingyu stands up from his seat and walks over to Wonwoo.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?” he asks, hand firm on the back of Wonwoo’s chair.

Wonwoo glances at Soonyoung who returns his look with inquisitive eyes. “Sure,” he nods without looking at Mingyu.

As yet another contrast, Soonyoung’s the one to shoot the younger man a smile because he’s just friendly like that. Wonwoo rises to follow the younger to the corner of the room, far from prying ears.

“Sorry about before, hyung,” is the first thing Mingyu says once they’re safe out of other people’s earshot and Wonwoo must admit he didn’t see that coming.

“Sorry?" His brows furrow. "For what?”

“I didn’t know you weren’t out, so—”

Oh. _Oh_.

Mingyu thinks Wonwoo is still in the closet even now and he’s just overstepped by almost bringing up their… romantic past. That’s one word for it, okay, romantic. Yeah, Wonwoo can work with that. He’s pretty sure he can handle it. No problemo. There’s genuine distress behind Mingyu’s brown orbs and Wonwoo’s heart aches slightly. Mingyu feels bad for _him_. The light that had dimmed before, that was more for Wonwoo’s benefit than the younger's own.

“Mingyu, no. I’m out,” he quickly says, not wanting to worry him, “It’s not that at all.”

It should alleviate Mingyu’s concern, but for a reason Wonwoo doesn’t immediately comprehend, the unease Mingyu displays only worsens. Deep lines appear on his forehead and his comforting smile flips upside down, a dark shadow cast over his face.

“If you weren’t hiding yourself, that means you were hiding _me_.”

His words leave a bitter taste to coat Wonwoo’s tongue and he makes the mistake of gulping because now the acridity spreads everywhere. Mingyu… is not wrong. Wonwoo hid the fact that there was more to it to their relationship than just neighbours and he’s not entirely sure why.

It’s still a big shock for him to see Mingyu here, in the flesh, after all these years. He’s trying his best to adjust to the aftermath of the blast, despite doing an absolute shit job at it. At least he hasn’t run away.

Mingyu scoffs at Wonwoo’s lack of a response. “Okay. Good talk, hyung.”

“Gyu,” Wonwoo calls before he can stop it. The nickname had slipped out of him effortlessly. “It’s…”

The younger crosses his arms across his chest. “What?”

He realises then that he doesn’t have a good answer, any that Mingyu deserves to hear anyway. As if on cue, Soonyoung looks over to them, his head sticking up from the row of people who have theirs down, full attention paid toward the proposal bundle. Wonwoo’s proverbial light bulb goes off.

“I have a boyfriend.” He waves at Soonyoung, who waves back. Mingyu follows his line of sight. “And it’s… pretty new. I was—I didn’t want to freak him out.”

Oh, God. He just lied. Sure, he did it to spare Mingyu’s feelings for his incompetence of digesting his own, but the details aren’t important. What is important here is that—he just _lied_. Not only that, but he also managed to involve someone else in the lie.

Great.

Absolutely wonderful.

“Oh,” Mingyu mumbles softly, eyes leaving Soonyoung’s figure to find Wonwoo’s once more. “Oh, yeah. I jumped into my own conclusion, sorry.”

 _No_ , Wonwoo wants to scream, _you should never say sorry to me_. If anything, Wonwoo is the one out of the two of them that owes the other an apology.

“It’s—”

His sentence is cut off before Wonwoo has a chance to finish. Perhaps it’s for the better, as he doesn’t know what other deceits would come out of him if Mingyu gives him further opportunity to lie.

“It’s good to see you again, hyung.” Mingyu shoves his hands into the pocket of his jeans and starts walking away. The smile he puts on feels as fraudulent as Wonwoo’s statement about having a boyfriend. “I mean it.”

Then he turns his back on Wonwoo and returns to his spot. Wonwoo watches him go, all the while wondering if it would still feel the same to hug Mingyu from behind now as it was then, even though he’s twice as broad as Wonwoo remembers him to be. He shakes his head to rid himself of these futile thoughts.

As soon as he’s back on Soonyoung’s side, Wonwoo leans toward him and whispers, “I need to ask you a favour.”

“What kind of favour?” Soonyoung whispers back, conspiratorial. “Because Seungcheol-hyung already said I have to do decorations and I already shook him on it,” he explains quietly, keeping his tone playful and making Wonwoo feel bad for asking what he’s about to, “so if you want to poach me to your division we might have to make a run for it.”

Wonwoo shakes his head. “Not that kind of favour.”

After a raise of an eyebrow, Soonyoung gestures for him to continue. “I’m listening, then.”

He takes a moment to think about the best way to put forward this request, but Wonwoo’s never needed to beat around the bush with Soonyoung. His friend's the type to choose the bad news first over the good news and believe that when you’re at the lowest point, the only way you can go from there is up. So, today, as he takes the plunge into the ice-cold, unforgiving dark waters below him, he can only hope Soonyoung still feels the same way. 

“Be my boyfriend.”

“That’s hardly a favour."

Honestly, Wonwoo can’t tell if he’s joking or not because he can’t get a good look of Soonyoung’s face. But Soonyoung’s fingers have stopped flipping pages on the proposal—Wonwoo doubt he was actually absorbing any sort of information from the booklet in the first place—and at least to Wonwoo that means he’s listening to what he has to say.

“As in…” Wonwoo pauses for a bit, leaning even closer to Soonyoung to ensure he’s the only one who hears the next part, “pretend to be my boyfriend.”

The tip of Soonyoung’s ear is slightly red when he pulls away. “Still hardly a favour, but okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he throws a glance at Wonwoo. “Did you want me to say no?”

“No?” Wonwoo says, unsure. “No,” he says again, still not quite believing Soonyoung’s just agreed with him. “Uh, thanks?”

Soonyoung shrugs and offers Wonwoo his palm across the table. “You wanna hold my hand?”

“Sure.” Why not, right? Boyfriends do that; hold hands. Wonwoo fits his fingers in the gaps between Soonyoung’s own and squeezes gently. This is not awful at all, he thinks idly. “Are you not going to ask me why?”

“Wild guess,” Soonyoung is the one to lean toward Wonwoo now, “but it has something to do with the big puppy Seungcheol-hyung dragged in.”

“You sure can be sharp sometimes,” Wonwoo offers in return, half playful and the other half thankful. “Yes. I know him. Knew him, more accurately. From high school.”

It’s the best Wonwoo can offer him at the moment. Mingyu and the time they spent together, as brief as that year had felt like, remains a set of recollections Wonwoo doesn’t voluntarily visit unless he wants to spend the entire day curled up in bed and eating ice cream straight out of the tube. That being said, it’s not something that bothers him every day, maybe because he’s gotten good at compartmentalising his feelings into boxes and choosing which ones to keep open.

Except, Soonyoung asks, “He had a crush on you?” and the illusion Wonwoo tries hard to keep falls apart at once.

He should have known that Soonyoung would be able to look right through him and his thick layers of duplicity. Since the moment Jeonghan introduces him to Wonwoo as one of his favourite dongsaengs a little over one and a half year ago, Wonwoo should have known that had meant Soonyoung is anything but good for him. After all, Jeonghan is oftentimes the Devil reincarnate himself. To this day, Wonwoo still prays he’d never unintentionally cross that man.

Soonyoung’s appearance is just as disarming as Jeonghan’s, but the similarity extends to the fact that contrary to what one’s first impression of them might normally be, their minds are like swords constantly sharpened with a whetstone.

“How… how did you know?”

“Don’t look straight away, but he’s staring right at us right now.” Soonyoung turns their joined hands above the table and starts stroking the length of Wonwoo’s thumb with his own. “Smile, sweetheart.”

Wonwoo tries and presumes he fails miserably, if the low chuckle Soonyoung rewards him with is any indication.

“He brings up the past and since you’re allergic to feelings… so you opted for a fake boyfriend? I don’t get it.”

“I’m not allergic to feelings.” Soonyoung just smiles at him and shrugs, as if to say _sure, whatever you say_. “I don’t want to give him any ideas, is all. No time for that with my hectic schedule.”

“Why not let him down gently?”

“Mingyu’s persistent.” Actually, Wonwoo doesn’t know whether that is true. Mingyu _was_ persistent, but that Mingyu he’s referring to was sixteen and infatuated with Wonwoo, while this Mingyu is twenty-one and definitely no longer infatuated with Wonwoo. “Unless I give him a clear reason not to push the boundaries, he’ll just keep trying.”

“Fair enough.”

Soonyoung doesn’t say anything else besides that and Wonwoo deems the conversation finished until the older man moves to turn his page and tugs Wonwoo’s hand in the process.

“Should we establish rules?”

“Why would we? Rules are meant to be broken.”

“Says you,” Wonwoo points out, knowing fully well Soonyoung’s tendency to play things a little too close to the edge of danger.

“Let’s just play it by the ear. Act the way you would with a boyfriend and I’ll do the same,” he responds, ignoring Wonwoo’s previous remark. He shifts in his seat to face Wonwoo properly. “Tell no one?”

“Absolutely no one,” Wonwoo nods in total agreement. “Not even Jihoon, you hear me?”

Soonyoung gives him a funny look. “I’m not the one who gets talkative after two bottles of beer.”

He yanks his hand from Soonyoung’s grip in mock-offence, causing the brunet to laugh loud enough to alert Jihoon, who sends them a pointed look. Soonyoung gives his roommate a placating wave before he dives back for Wonwoo’s hand again.

Wonwoo lets him have it, but not without hissing, “That’s because you’re a sleepy drunk! Besides, I don’t drink much unless it’s with you or Jeonghan-hyung.”

“Good,” is Soonyoung’s response to that. “Can’t have you drinking with irresponsible people.”

 _You’re irresponsible_ , Wonwoo wants to bite back, but Soonyoung starts rubbing his thumb over the back of his hand and Wonwoo’s protests die at the tip of his tongue.

Soonyoung distracts him well enough that he barely thinks about Mingyu again until he’s back in his room, limbs outstretched above his soft mattress. Wonwoo rolls to the side and reaches under the bed for a box of his most treasured possessions. He opens it, digs toward the bottom of the wooden compartment to find the item he’s looking for, pulls it out almost victoriously.

The torn ticket is laminated—Wonwoo has half a mind to do this before he could do further damage to the paper—so he lies back down and holds the plastic above his head.

Wonwoo drifts off to sleep thinking about how things would have been if he had gone to the movie theatre that day. If he hadn’t leave Mingyu hanging, if he had the courage to say goodbye to him. The what-ifs flood his mind until the world turns black, though the world outside his window is nothing but bright and dazzling.

★ ★ ★

Wonwoo doesn’t see Mingyu again for a week. They didn’t exchange numbers that day and Wonwoo’s too much of a coward to look him up on SNS or ask Seungcheol about him, so he leaves the matter be.

He goes about days like normal, not a single fib in his well-established routine. Wonwoo still walks into the kitchen in the morning to find Jeonghan dumping three different kinds of cereal into one bowl. He still eats lunch with Junhui and lets him complain about this annoying girl in his Acting Lab class. Still gets texts from Soonyoung consisting random facts pertinent to domestic cats and the _Felidae_ genus in general.

Still smiles at those, too.

The one difference is now he has to reply to messages from one of the liaison officers in the digital design division who keeps asking him for his opinion on the colour scheme they’re pitching for the festival ticket. Wonwoo really wants to say he doesn’t care either way but they seem way too nice to withstand his harshness, so he answers with a curt “1” or “2” whenever presented with a choice.

Yet, regardless of the committee business, not meeting Mingyu means not remembering the agreement he had entered himself into because of his avoidance. Compartmentalising, remember?

So when Jaehwan’s birthday party rolls around and Wonwoo gets the courtesy of being extended an invitation because they’re in the same big circle of friends, the last thing he expects is to find Soonyoung at his door. Even more of a surprise is the sight of him all dolled up and ready to go before Wonwoo himself gathers enough willpower to take a shower.

Dolled up is probably an overstatement, but Soonyoung is wearing bronze eyeshadow and Wonwoo knows nothing about make up, which leads him to the use of that phrase. He doesn’t make the same amount of effort with his outfit, probably just threw on the first clean shirt he could find, but Wonwoo notices the change in accessory, at least. The usual silver stud in his lower lobe is taken out, replaced with a rectangular-shaped earring in a colour that matches his eyeshadow.

“What are you doing here?” he asks, blinking out of his reverie.

“Uh… picking you up?” Soonyoung sneaks a glance at Jeonghan who’s currently lounging on the couch. “Isn’t that what a good boyfriend should do? It would be nice for us to show up at the party together.”

This is the first time since last Saturday that it hits Wonwoo. The realisation comes to him creeping, slowly sinks its claws into his consciousness and refuses to leave, making a home there to settle instead. Soonyoung dips his head down a little to catch Wonwoo’s attention, but he doesn’t prod further.

“Oh. Yeah. Right.” Wonwoo clears his throat and nods, moving aside to let Soonyoung into the apartment. “I just thought you won’t be here for another hour.”

“I mean…”

The way Soonyoung purposefully trails off has Wonwoo squinting his eyes at him, suspicion dial turned on to maximum.

“You’re hungry and Jihoon is out of ramen.” At this point he doesn’t even bother with a question, he just presents a statement that doubles as an irrefutable fact.

“He doesn’t even buy them anymore!” Soonyoung exclaims hotly as he makes his way in, taking his shoes off and placing them on the rack next to the door before he pads toward the living room. “Jihoon now hides the instant rice stash from me, too.”

Jeonghan snickers at that, acknowledging Soonyoung’s presence though his eyes are still on the TV show he has on. “That's because you never bother to buy your own food, Soonyoung-ah.”

“Then I’m glad I have a loving hyung who would feed me at all times,” Soonyoung responds in a sing-song voice, throwing himself right next to Jeonghan on the couch.

Rolling his eyes, Wonwoo walks over to the kitchen to retrieve two packets of Soonyoung’s favourite ramen from his personal drawer. Soonyoung’s sentence just now is ironic, come to think of it, since most of the time Wonwoo is the one who feeds him and not Jeonghan.

It has come to a point where it’s easier for them to separate their groceries as Wonwoo is essentially buying for two with how often Soonyoung comes over demanding to be fed by _him_. Wonwoo doesn’t know why he even bothers, Soonyoung doesn’t even _cook_ his own meals. He supposes he’s just bitter that Soonyoung’s giving Jeonghan the recognition meant to be his instead.

Wonwoo essentially gets ignored by the two of them as Soonyoung catches Jeonghan up on what’s been going on in his busy, busy life. He doesn’t mind it, he gets to overhear some snippets even with his back toward them, including Jeonghan’s shriek when Soonyoung tries to nuzzle into him. Soonyoung does that often, completely forgetting the fact that he’s put foundation on. Biting back a smile, Wonwoo just dumps the noodle into the pot once the water’s boiling.

Halfway through cooking, Jeonghan materialises out of thin air next to him and backs Wonwoo into the kitchen corner with a vicious smile on his face. Wonwoo holds up his pot lid as a shield.

“What?”

“Since you have a boyfriend now,” the knowing lilt to Jeonghan’s voice is so, so dangerous. “We need to talk about ground rules.”

So he did hear them. His roommate doesn’t look all that surprised, nor does he seem to have a long list of questions for Wonwoo. Both reactions serve as reassurances to Wonwoo that he and Soonyoung might pull this off without a hitch after all. If they can get Jeonghan to buy the lie, then they can convince everyone else.

Jeonghan is like the undefeated evil lord at the highest level of conning people.

Wonwoo straightens his back and attempts not to feel intimidated, but it’s hard when Yoon Jeonghan is staring at him like _that_. His eyes might as well be flashing red right now.

“Ground rules?” Wonwoo asks. His carefulness here requires no acting.

Though he’s sure Jeonghan is at some level fond of him—otherwise he would have kicked Wonwoo out of their apartment after their first lease is up—he has no doubt over Jeonghan’s partisanship when it comes to Soonyoung. It becomes evident to Wonwoo right there and then that he hadn’t thought this thing through. What if he breaks Soonyoung’s heart? Jeonghan will break his _neck_.

Wait.

He _can’t_ break Soonyoung’s heart, because they’re not dating for real. Jokes on him, Wonwoo supposes, he almost got worked up for nothing.

Jeonghan leans back before he answers, “Like no sex in the shared spaces. Kitchen, living room, balcony. You have to keep it to your bedroom.” Wonwoo’s grip around the pot lid tightens. “Bathroom’s fine I guess, but if I see a trace of it afterwards, we’d have to go our separate ways.”

“Hyung!” Wonwoo protests, though he keeps his voice to a low hiss so Soonyoung won’t be curious as to what they’re talking about over here.

“It’s important to talk about boundaries, Wonwoo-yah,” Jeonghan replies sternly.

“Okay, fine! I get it,” Wonwoo pushes him by the shoulder, shoving Jeonghan out of his way as he turns off the stove. “God.”

He walks over to the sink to discard of the water in the pot and Jeonghan follows him there like an itch Wonwoo can’t ever get rid off. Almost impossible to fully focus at the task at hand when Jeonghan’s breathing down his neck like a dragon woken from its slumber.

“Second—”

“I know how to be a decent human being, okay? Respect your boundaries, _I get it,_ ” Wonwoo snaps with no heat to it. He doesn’t want to hear sex being spoken in the same sentence referring to him and Soonyoung again. That’s just—that’s not a mental image Wonwoo needs. Or wants. “Please go away now.”

“Second, you can talk to me about boy problems, but only on Sunday mornings before lunchtime,” Jeonghan finishes off smugly, ignoring Wonwoo’s protests. “Other than that, my slot for consultation is not open.”

Wonwoo moves the noodle into the bowl and reaches for the seasoning packet over Jeonghan’s body. Jeonghan quickly plucks it out of his hand and holds it away from Wonwoo, forcing him to finish the conversation. In truth Wonwoo can easily walk away right now, it’s not even his stomach he’s trying to fill here. But he doesn’t.

Instead, he sighs and points out the obvious fallacy in Jeonghan’s statement, “You’re never awake before lunchtime on Sunday.”

“Exactly,” Jeonghan nods, lips pressed to a determined line. “So if you need to wake me up it’d better be because a bridge is burning or something equally as bad.”

He offers Wonwoo the packet before sauntering back to the couch and Wonwoo tries to ignore the small voice in the back of his head which tells him that in the end, he might just need to take Jeonghan up on his advice.

Wonwoo finishes up the ramen in silence and calls out to Soonyoung once he’s done. Soonyoung has that happy little skips in his steps, bright eyes zoning in on the bowl of ramen in Wonwoo’s hand. _This_ is why he doesn’t walk away before. He fights the urge to ruffle his friend’s hair affectionately in consideration that Soonyoung might have used products on it, so Wonwoo settles with bumping his shoulder into Soonyoung’s as he walks toward his room.

“Can I choose your outfit?” Soonyoung asks with his mouth full just as Wonwoo’s hand curls around his doorknob.

“You didn’t even choose _your_ outfit.”

“Okay, with that very same logic then you’d let me put eyeliner on you?”

Last time they tried doing that, Wonwoo had squirmed so much that Soonyoung almost stabbed him in the eye with the liquid liner pen. Therefore, the second option is out of the question. Besides, most days Wonwoo prefers glasses to contacts and that hides pretty much his entire upper half of face, anyway.

“Fine,” Wonwoo relents eventually, “but you have to use what’s in _my_ closet, okay? I’d know if you steal something from Jeonghan-hyung’s.”

“That’s because _I_ actually have a fashion sense,” Jeonghan mocks, winking at Soonyoung and throwing Wonwoo a smug look over his shoulder.

As he curbs the impulse to flip Jeonghan the bird, Wonwoo reminds himself that he’s older than him and in many aspects the perfect roommate.

★ ★ ★

Partying is not how Wonwoo likes to spend his free time. On the other hand, Soonyoung fits seamlessly with the crowd since he knows everyone who is someone (Jaehwan) and who isn’t anyone (Wonwoo). He’s the one who gets all the friendly back claps and firm handshakes as they navigate their way across a sea of undulating bodies moving to the dance music booming thunderously. When they finally find an empty couch to sit on, Wonwoo is so thankful he mentally praises the higher power.

It takes him thirty minutes to feel bad because Soonyoung doesn’t leave his side by principle, even though people keep coming to him and asking him to show them some moves. Soonyoung’s got _moves_ , alright, Wonwoo’s seen them firsthand and on multiple occasions, too. No, he’s not special in this way, pretty sure the whole campus has seen Soonyoung perform at recitals. Either a solo performance or one with his crew, he’s always breathtaking every time.

In order to allow Soonyoung some time to socialise, Wonwoo excuses himself with the flimsy excuse of finding the bathroom. Soonyoung points him in the right direction and lets him go with a smile.

Wonwoo walks toward the bathroom at first until he’s sure that Soonyoung’s eyes aren’t following him, then he makes a sharp turn toward the exit. He needs fresh air. There are too many people inside and all he could smell were perfumes, not all of them nice on the nose either.

Without looking ahead Wonwoo walks down the steps of Jaehwan’s place, undoing the buttons on his shirt’s sleeve in the process so he can roll them up to his elbow. The night’s a bit hot and humid and Soonyoung’s attempt at dressing him in the nicest clothing he thinks Wonwoo has is putting him at risk of overheating.

He doesn’t realise who he’s standing next to on the side of the road until he successfully folds his sleeves up and lifts his face to check.

It’s yet another surprise to see Mingyu standing there, body angled toward Wonwoo and a stick of cigarette trapped between his red lips, the filter part’s almost entirely disappeared inside his mouth. Before he knows it, Wonwoo rips the item away from Mingyu and flings it down. He retracts his hand immediately after.

Mingyu’s eyes are wide in shock.

Wonwoo mirrors his feeling.

“What the hell?” he asks.

Demands, more like.

“You’re _not_ smoking.”

Wonwoo scans his figure from the top of his mussed locks, silver strands illuminated by the pale moonlight making them look almost like a crown, down to Mingyu’s leather jacket and ripped jeans. The cigarette makes more sense now. He hadn’t been paying attention to what Mingyu was wearing on Saturday but he assumes he’s dressed according to the occasion.

But smoking isn’t a fashion statement, is it?

“Of course I’m not,” Mingyu points to the asphalt next to Wonwoo’s feet where the cigarette now lies. “You just snatched my unlit cigarette right from my mouth and threw it to the ground. What’d you do that for?”

“What’s with this bad boy image?” Wonwoo returns his question with another one of his own. He’s six feet deep in incomprehension and denial. Mingyu would _never_ smoke, he refuses to believe it. “Or is it tortured artist you’re trying to go for?” he asks again when Mingyu remains quiet. “It isn’t you.”

For a few moments, the only thing Wonwoo can hear his the sound of his own breathing. Heavy.

Then Mingyu responds with, “It isn’t me?” and all of his syllables drip with incredulity. “And how exactly would you know that?”

“I just…” Wonwoo falters, realising that once again he’s based off his actions on assumptions that may no longer be valid. “I just do,” he finishes weakly.

Mingyu takes a deep breath and rolls his shoulder, gearing for a fight Wonwoo knows neither of them is ready for.

“It’s been a while since we last saw each other, things can change in that period,” he points out, taking a small pause. Wonwoo senses it coming, the spear. Senses Mingyu aiming his throw, locking his target, pulling his hand back before he propels the weapon forward. “Maybe if we had stayed in touch, you would have an idea of what I’m like today. But in case you forgot, since I most certainly haven’t, it was you who left without as much as a warning.”

Just because he senses it coming, doesn’t mean it hurts any less to hear it.

“I didn’t have a choice about leaving,” Wonwoo refutes, but he knows how feeble it is.

“You had a choice about saying goodbye, though,” Mingyu shots back, refusing to yield into Wonwoo’s silent plea: _let’s not do this, ever_.

“I don’t get it,” he shakes his head, hair swaying as he does so, “You clearly didn’t want anything to do with me that day at the committee meeting.”

Mingyu must have wanted Wonwoo to reach out that day. He took Wonwoo aside to talk and that already counted as a move on his part, then Wonwoo spent the rest of the day actively avoiding any meaningful interaction with Mingyu. It seems to him that once again, while trying to save himself from getting hurt, Wonwoo has inflicted some more pain onto Mingyu.

He hasn’t even forgiven himself for the first time he’s done that and now he’s letting history repeat itself. It can’t be this way. Wonwoo used to rationalise what he did as a mistake of the youth, but he’s older and wiser today than he had been before, so what’s his excuse for doing this yet again?

“I’m sorry.”

The younger flinches away as if Wonwoo’s slapped him across the face with his apology.“What?”

“I’m sorry I made you feel that way,” Wonwoo offers as sincerely as he can, “I was surprised to see you and I… reacted badly. You see, to me, it was like seeing a ghost.”

“Oh, so now I’m a ghost?”

“Mingyu, shit,” he says hurriedly. Wonwoo’s making a mess out of this situation even though that’s the last thing he wants to do. “That’s not what I meant.”

Mingyu lifts a hand in the air, his palm held toward Wonwoo. _Enough_ , it says.

“Whatever you say.”

“I had regrets,” Wonwoo blurts out, desperate to get Mingyu to understand this one thing—if nothing else. “About the way I left things with you.”

Mouth parting in disbelief, Mingyu’s inability to respond gives Wonwoo the opportunity to continue. He’s lied once already, out of panic, out of fear, out of nowhere, really, so he won’t do it again. Not to Mingyu.

“I think about you often, you know? I wondered how you were, what kind of person you’d grow up to be, if you'd continued to pursue your art. Whether you’d still like me or not if we meet now and not then.”

Though it isn’t the entire truth, it’s some parts of it and Wonwoo thinks it’s a good place to start as any. Someday soon he’ll have the courage to fully vocalise what’s inside his heart, but for now, they’ll have this. Mingyu pays all of his attention to Wonwoo’s words, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows around the lump in his throat Wonwoo feels inside his own.

“But I was young. I was scared and I had to leave because that’s the way things always were with my dad’s job. And you… didn’t make leaving easy.”

Mingyu holds his gaze and the silence that blankets them makes Wonwoo feel warm instead of hot.

“I would,” he says eventually.

“Huh?”

As much as Wonwoo want to agree with whatever Mingyu says, that’s not right. It isn’t. Mingyu really wouldn’t make things easy. Leaving him would never have been easy regardless of which way Wonwoo chooses to do it.

It turns out Mingyu’s talking about an entirely different matter than what Wonwoo has in mind.

“If we met today and not all those years ago, I would still like you,” he explains gently, the mask of indifference now discarded to the side. For the first time since they were reunited, Mingyu gives him a smile Wonwoo can categorise as being genuine.

“As a friend,” he adds after, “because I respect your relationship.”

Ah. Shit.

“Right,” Wonwoo says dumbly.

What else is there to say?

Mingyu digs into his pocket and hands Wonwoo his box of cigarette. “Here.”

“I don’t smoke,” Wonwoo pushes the box back toward him. “And you shouldn’t, either, but I still didn’t have any right doing what I did.”

“I’m not giving it to you for you to use,” he reaches for Wonwoo’s hand and closes his grip around the box, the prolonged contact sending a jolt of electricity up Wonwoo’s forearm. This is one thing that hasn’t changed, at least. “I’m giving to you for you to throw away.”

Wonwoo looks down at the box, now secured firmly beneath his fingers. “If it’s this easy to get you to hand this over, then why’d you have it in the first place?”

The younger shrugs.

“Eh, it takes the edge off.” In contrast to the frown Wonwoo wears when he hears that, Mingyu’s lips curl prettily at the corners. “You’re not the only one surprised to see a familiar face after so long. I thought I was dreaming at first, but then again, that’s how I tend to think whenever I see you.”

Wonwoo can only stare at him, unable to find the right words to respond. Another thing that hasn’t changed, it seems. Years pass by and Mingyu still has this very same effect on him, rendering him speechless by the sheer force of his unrestrained candour.

“Do you want my lighter, too?”

“We might need it for the cake,” says Wonwoo, though he’s pretty sure this isn’t one of those birthday parties that has cake. “You can keep it, I guess.”

Mingyu pockets the lighter again.

“Hyung.” Wonwoo looks at him, waiting. “I’d like for us to be friends if you’re cool with that.”

He breaks into a smile at the offer. “Yeah,” Wonwoo agrees easily, “Sounds good, Mingyu.”

“Also, just to put it out there, I won’t bring up the past if you don’t want to.” Mingyu treads very lightly with his sentence and Wonwoo’s at the precipice of expressing his gratitude when he continues on, “Soonyoung-hyung doesn’t have to know about us and if he does find out, I’ll let you be the one to tell him.”

Wonwoo gulps. Every single time it feels like they’re back on calm waters, Mingyu brings this particular lie up and Wonwoo drowns in his guilt once again.

“…thanks.”

“Okay.”

“Are you coming in, then?” Wonwoo asks as he walks toward the door. “It’s hot out here.”

“In a minute. You can go first.” He sighs a little when Wonwoo raises both eyebrows at him. “I won’t smoke. You have my cigarettes, remember?”

Wonwoo does, in fact, remember.

“Alright.”

While Soonyoung is walking Wonwoo back to his apartment later that night, he asks him where he went before. Wonwoo tells him how he bumped into Mingyu outside Jaehwan’s place. All Soonyoung does is nod and Wonwoo leans his head on his shoulder. It makes it a little difficult for them to walk after that, but for all that’s within Soonyoung’s power to push Wonwoo away, he doesn’t.

For some reason he can’t be bothered to rationalise, Wonwoo keeps Mingyu’s cigarette inside the box under his bed.


	2. and they smiled (soonyoung)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh,” Mingyu’s eyes are fixed on their joined hands, his mouth hanging slightly open. “Oh, that’s—”
> 
> “Good?” Soonyoung laughs softly, shifting his direction down to Mingyu's wrist.

Jihoon finishes applying the product on the hair nearest to Soonyoung’s nape and throws the empty dye tube into the trash bin. He takes off his black plastic gloves and they too face the same fate as the tube. Soonyoung stands up and looks at himself in the mirror, head all white making him ten times paler than he actually is. Like this, his complexion is much alike Jihoon's, who is basically a vampire with not enough vitamin D.

The real vitamin D, since if D stands for dick then Jihoon is getting much more in the past week alone than Soonyoung has for the last six months.

The tap turns on and Jihoon is washing his hands when he says, “I’m happy for you.”

Soonyoung frowns. “Because I chose to save money and ask you to dye my hair instead of going to the salon?”

“No, you dumbass,” Jihoon clucks his tongue. “I meant about Wonwoo. I’m happy you guys are together.”

Ah. Soonyoung should have known that Jeonghan wouldn’t last three days without telling Jihoon. He'd expected to have a week before he needs to explain himself to his best friend, but Jeonghan just chose to speed the progress along. Okay, then. There isn’t much he can do to avoid Jihoon finding out about this, but it would have been better if he was indifferent about the whole thing. Jihoon just said he was _happy_ , which means he will be _unhappy_ when Soonyoung eventually comes clean later.

That’s a problem for future Soonyoung to deal with, though.

Present Soonyoung just teases him by saying, “Did an alien abduct you and swap their body with yours? You’re giving me goosebumps.”

“You asshole,” Jihoon pushes him by the shoulder, his hand cold against Soonyoung’s bare skin. “I was being nice.”

“For once.”

“Never mind, then.”

“No, no,” Soonyoung leans closer with a smile on his face, “go on, tell me why you’re happy.”

The look Jihoon levels him with should be enough to make anyone else cower in their spot, but Soonyoung has had years of practice getting used to his behaviour. He knows that underneath it all, Jihoon is helplessly fond of him. The younger would rather bite his tongue than admit it, but it doesn’t change the fact.

“Get your face away from me,” Jihoon hisses, cat-like. “It’s just—it’s about time.”

“About time?”

“Uh-huh,” he shrugs and steps around Soonyoung to dry his hands on the towel next to the sink. “One can only stand the two of you making heart eyes at each other from opposite ends of the room for so long. Cheol wouldn’t shut up about it, not even when we’re—”

He raises his both eyebrows, a silent challenge for Jihoon to continue his sentence. In return, Soonyoung gets a smack on his upper arm instead, but that much is to be expected he supposes. It’s the way Jihoon shows affection, anyway.

“Carry on.”

“Shut up.”

“What’s the deal with you and hyung anyway?” Soonyoung presses on.

Jihoon is a master at avoiding this particular topic despite having exposed Soonyoung on multiple occasion to Seungcheol’s naked backside. They probably don’t _mean_ to, but at this point, Soonyoung is more acquainted with Seungcheol’s ass than half the people on the campus who’s warmed his bed.

“We’re sleeping together,” answers Jihoon, tone flat, cheeks the colour of evasion. “It’s fun. No strings attached.”

“Does _he_ know that?”

“Of course he does.” He definitely doesn’t, Soonyoung thinks idly. “Seungcheol’s not the relationship type of guy.”

Oh, now Jihoon is projecting his own feelings onto poor Seungcheol.

Admittedly, Soonyoung is not the best at this _romance_ thing. His own relationships, few as they are, all crash and burn in a large, bright-red fire. The problem with his flame of passion is that they are so easily extinguished—Soonyoung finds that no amount of firewood is sufficient to create a spark that’s no longer there. It’s probably shitty to say people don’t _hook_ him, but the truth is people _don’t._ He only goes on a date now and then to keep Jeonghan from fussing over him.

That being said, a blind man can tell that Seungcheol looks at Jihoon like the younger is the moon. Seungcheol himself is the waves of the sea, drawn by a force futile to fight against.

“Did hyung tell you that? That he’s not looking for a relationship or whatever.”

Jihoon huffs and crosses his arms across his chest.

“What is this?” he demands, eyes flaring with mild annoyance. “An interrogation? I thought we were talking about you and Wonwoo.”

“Okay, alright,” Soonyoung nods. It’s not like he’s expecting Jihoon to open up easily regardless of their long years of friendship. To receive, one must first be able to give. “We can talk about Wonwoo as much as you want, but after that, I get a turn asking you questions.”

For a split second, Jihoon considers the proposition. He’s seemingly curious about the _how_ and _when_ Soonyoung’s relationship started, but then he changes his mind halfway and decides to bury his questions along with the answers he might have to give in return.

“Stop talking,” Jihoon says as he walks out of the bathroom. “Give it three minutes before you wash your hair.”

He leaves before Soonyoung can respond.

★ ★ ★

Wonwoo’s jaw drops all the way down when Soonyoung comes over to his place later that week, gold adorning his head instead of brown. He blinks at the pale mop of hair, eyes darting to find Soonyoung’s after a moment before they go back up to his hair again. Soonyoung chuckles and asks him if he plans on letting him in any time tonight. His question proves to be enough to snap Wonwoo out of his trance. He steps aside after and allows Soonyoung entry.

To not notice the way Wonwoo keeps stealing glances at him every couple of minutes as they study in the living room is impossible. He’s not being subtle about it at the very least. Soonyoung has to suppress a chuckle when he lifts his head on purpose to meet his gaze and Wonwoo immediately scrambles to squint down at his notes again, though he’s been reading the same page ever since they sat down.

Soonyoung knows he doesn’t look _bad_ with this colour, although it is nice to have this form of acknowledgement coming from his friend.

He takes pity on Wonwoo after another half hour and he shows no improvements over how he’s dealing with Soonyoung’s new look. Soonyoung starts whining about how he’s hungry and in need of sustenance, stat. Wonwoo being Wonwoo rolls his eyes at him before, but he gets up and walks toward the kitchen to fix something up for Soonyoung.

The best Soonyoung was hoping for is a double-serving of his favourite ramyeon, then Wonwoo pulls out a pack of fried shrimp tempura from the fridge and Soonyoung’s heart starts pounding. In… excitement over the prospect of a good meal. Yeah, that must be it.

Wonwoo goes to work without much to say and Soonyoung tries to keep out of his way as they navigate around the small space. He’s hopeless in his attempt because Wonwoo bumps into him so often that before he turns on the stove, he gives Soonyoung a command to stand by the corner. Soonyoung does as he’s told and leans against the kitchen counter, three feet away from Wonwoo.

“I like watching you cook,” he says, as Wonwoo tilts the pan toward him to get oil evenly on the shrimp strips.

“No,” Wonwoo refutes his statement, “you’re just saying that because you’re too lazy to do it yourself.”

That’s not true, Soonyoung realises. Jihoon makes him food too, and yet he’s never found it interesting to stand witness for the process. There’s something about Wonwoo cooking with a concealed smile on his face. Something about the care with which he carries out the process so effortlessly, rarely asking for anything in return.

 _Pretend to be my boyfriend_.

That doesn't count, it was hardly a favour _._

“Sit down then,” says Soonyoung. pushing himself away from the counter so he can take over Wonwoo’s position. “I can finish up.”

Wonwoo hesitates, grip tightening around the handle of the pan. “See? You don’t want to,” Soonyoung points out. “Admit it, you secretly like taking care of me.”

He receives a sharp look for his bold presumptuousness, though Wonwoo’s eyes melt almost instantly when he catches sight of Soonyoung’s hair once again.

“Why the hair?”

Soonyoung shrugs. Why does he do anything? No one has ever asked him that question as much as Wonwoo does. When he came to Jihoon with a box of dye in hand, all Jihoon did was stood up and followed him into the bathroom. He’s given up figuring how Soonyoung’s mind works and Soonyoung expects the same from Wonwoo after the first month of knowing him, really.

Tonight, standing in Wonwoo and Jeonghan’s shared kitchen, he’s still trying to solve the puzzle that is Soonyoung. Unconsciously, maybe. Who knows.

“I wanted a change, that’s all.”

“Quite a drastic one,” Wonwoo comments with no hint of malice.

“You don’t like it?”

“I never said that,” he shakes his head before turning the stove off. “It’ll be easier to spot you in the crowd if anything. Just have to find the person who shines the brightest amongst everyone.”

Soonyoung grins. “So I shine?”

“Like a polished shoe.”

“You’re mean sometimes.”

“I’m literally making food for you,” Wonwoo deadpans, one hand moving above Soonyoung’s head to get a plate from the shelf.

He’s close. Close enough for Soonyoung to smell his shampoo, a sweet smell that’s contrasted with the musk of his aftershave. Close enough for Soonyoung to see the hint of stubble—Wonwoo never did know how to shave properly, or perhaps he was just in a hurry. Close enough for him to have silly thoughts in his head and vocalise them out loud.

“Let’s go on a date.”

“Huh?” Wonwoo withdraws from his space, a plate held in his hand.

“So that we’d act more naturally around each other,” Soonyoung supplies, relief at the knowledge that his brain still works beyond blurting things out with no filter. “If we’re going to lie, might as well give it 110 per cent and fool everyone while we’re at it, right?”

Wonwoo waits for him to finish.

“The other day Jihoon told me he’s happy for me—for us, more like. It was pretty amusing to see him like that. And didn’t you say Jeonghan-hyung bought it? _Jeonghan-hyung!_ This can go down as the prank of the century if we manage to pull it off.”

He looks away from Soonyoung and starts placing golden brown pieces of heaven above the plate. “Now who’s mean, really?”

“That’s what they get for refusing to feed me.”

“Alright,” Wonwoo decides, handing Soonyoung the plate which he happily accepts. “We can go on a date, whatever, but if you make me spend money on it I will ask for a reimbursement.”

“You have so little faith in me,” Soonyoung replies over his shoulder as he walks to the rice cooker on the opposite end of the kitchen. “I’ll find a way. When?”

“Tomorrow?”

He whips around immediately. That’s barely enough time to brainstorm date ideas, much less come up with one that will impress Wonwoo _and_ not drain both their wallets.

“ _Tomorrow_?!”

Wonwoo raises his left brow in a perfect arch of incredulity. “Unless you have another fake boyfriend and you have to work me around your busy schedule.”

Oh, fine. Soonyoung doesn’t _need_ to impress Wonwoo anyway, since this is all for show. Bare minimum it is. The goal is just to familiarise themselves with each other on a more… romantic setting, he supposes. He’ll manage to find a solution within the given time-frame. Soonyoung’s mother didn’t raise him to be a quitter.

“Aren’t you the one with the busy schedule?” he retorts. “Besides, you know I’m loyal to you babe.”

Wonwoo crinkles his nose. “Not babe.”

“Sweetheart?” Soonyoung tries out.

Oh, sweetheart is good. He likes the sound of sweetheart.

“Stop,” warns Wonwoo, pink starting to dust his sharp cheekbones, “or the next meal you get from me will have poison in it.”

“What about pumpkin?”

“Do you want to die?”

“By your bare hands?” Soonyoung winks at him before turning around again, “It’d be such a great honour.”

He doesn’t need to look at Wonwoo to know that he was rolling his eyes. “What time tomorrow?” Soonyoung hears him ask.

“Ah,” he hums, considering. “Probably late? I have to work on some festival thing in the afternoon.”

Soonyoung fluffs the rice inside of the rice cooker before he scoops some out to put on his plate. Wonwoo is silent throughout, which Soonyoung is ready to accept as a sign of his affirmation knowing that the other likes to be scarce with his words. Then, just as Soonyoung finishes with his task, Wonwoo asks something else with a much quieter voice.

“With Mingyu?”

Suddenly, the tension in the room becomes palpable. Soonyoung can pull out a knife from the drawer right to the left from the sink and cut through it in one swift motion. He knows not where it comes from, just that it’s there and impossible to ignore.

He turns around.

“Yeah.” Wonwoo is biting down on his lower lip so hard it’s turned white. “Is that a problem?”

“No.”

“You sure?” he prompts, gentle.

“Yes.”

“You know you can tell me if there’s something bothering you.”

“I know.”

“Okay,” Soonyoung leaves it at that, not wanting to push Wonwoo into talking about a subject he’s not comfortable with.

“Okay,” Wonwoo echoes after him. “Hurry up and eat so we can finish studying.”

When he opens his mouth to thank Wonwoo for the food, Soonyoung realises the odd detail in this whole situation. It jumps at him _now_ out of all the times it could have before.

Wonwoo doesn’t eat seafood.

Wonwoo comes to sushi restaurants with their group of friend and orders chicken katsu set meal or a beef bowl, but never touches any of the seafood. Wonwoo politely declines the famous tom yum Seokmin’s roommate makes during exam week. Wonwoo had to use a knife to open the packaging before, which means he hasn’t touched this before tonight.

And Jeonghan is on another one of the oil-free detoxes that he claims is the secret to his perfect skin. The shrimp tempura, Soonyoung therefore concludes, isn’t Jeonghan’s either. He loses himself in the realisation that there’s food in Wonwoo’s fridge meant for him specifically, in the imagination of Wonwoo picking it up from the frozen food section in the supermarket while thinking of Soonyoung, in the kindness the act showers Soonyoung in.

He must have spent too long looking down at his plate.

“What’s wrong?” Wonwoo’s voice brings him back to the present. “I thought you liked that brand. Uh, the shrimp.”

“I do.” _I was just surprised you knew_. Soonyoung lifts his head. “Thank you,” he says softly and the soft shade of pink on Wonwoo’s cheeks turn crimson. “Let’s eat.”

★ ★ ★

Soonyoung is busy trying to figure out which wooden board he needs to outline and cut according to the dimensions Minghao gave him when someone comes to stand next to him.

“Hi.”

The voice is deep, gravelly. Soonyoung turns toward the source and finds that he needs to look _up_. Ah. He knows this face. He might have only seen it once, but Mingyu's is a face one doesn’t forget easily.

“Are you…” Mingyu trails off, seemingly unsure about how to acknowledge Soonyoung.

“Stuck with a job I have no expertise in?” Soonyoung grins at him, gesticulating to the boards in front of them. “Yes, I am.”

“I was going to say ‘here to relieve me from this never-ending suffering?’” He returns Soonyoung’s grin, baring the white rows of teeth with incisors sharp enough to rip flesh. “Though I see now that I’ve been given an apprentice instead.”

“Soonyoung,” he offers Mingyu his hand.

“Yes, I know,” the younger answers automatically as he takes Soonyoung’s hand, then catches himself. His eyes go wide, coloured with surprise. “Uh, I mean.”

“That’s alright,” Soonyoung tells him. “Mingyu, isn’t it? Wonwoo’s friend from high school.”

 _Friend_ is a safe word to use. It’s more than _underclassman_ , which would probably downplay their relationship, but less than _ex-boyfriend_ , which Soonyoung isn’t sure if they were ever that to each other. Yet, Mingyu’s face falls all the same, betraying his attempt at hiding his disappointment, and Soonyoung understands it was the wrong word. Inaccurate, if not wrong.

“Yeah.”

He’s unclear as to how to navigate this topic, so he opts to change the course of their conversation. Soonyoung jabs a thumb in the directions of the board.

“I can’t do art for shit,” he admits earnestly to Mingyu, “but if you tell me what to do, I promise I’m a quick learner.”

“That’s a lie,” Minghao chirps from the behind them, suddenly materialising out of thin air ten minutes after Soonyoung desperately needed his help. “Seungcheol practically begged him to be here because he has a good sense of creativity.”

Mingyu turns from Minghao to raise an eyebrow at Soonyoung. “Oh?”

“They’re hyping me up for nothing.” Soonyoung dismisses Minghao with a wave of his hand, the younger man sauntering away. Echoes of his laughter blanket Soonyoung and Mingyu until the quiet makes a reappearance. “Minghao’s nice like that, Seungcheol, though…”

“I know what you mean,” Mingyu nods, solemn.

Soonyoung wonders how he came to know Seungcheol and how much whining as the older man subjected him to if Mingyu’s already _this_ tired of him.

“Okay. Let me see what Minghao has for you.”

Gladly, Soonyoung puts the piece of paper onto Mingyu’s palm and watches as he squints at the writing. Then Mingyu bends down to grab the boards and gestures for Soonyoung to follow him to where they keep the saws on the other side of the basement studio.

As he’s claimed himself to be, Soonyoung _is_ a quick learner. Mingyu only needs to guide him through the instructions once before he stands to the side and watch over Soonyoung repeat everything on his own, humming in satisfaction when Soonyoung shows him his work. Soonyoung thinks he might leave him alone after that to wander around and check on everyone else, but Mingyu brings his own work over and sets it on the work station next to Soonyoung’s.

“Do you mind if I play music?”

Soonyoung shakes his head. “Be my guest.”

Soft R&B tunes start alternating with whispers of wood being cut through with a blade. He’s not familiar with the tune, but any good music is enough for him to start swaying to it. He’s still careful with his measurements, of course, because the last thing he wants is to add to Mingyu’s headache by messing up his task.

At one point Soonyoung leans back to check his outline from a distance. He looks over to the side and sees Mingyu still immersed in his work. The fingers of his left hand curl around the grip of the saw a little awkwardly and that’s when Soonyoung’s attention shift from the bulging bicep hidden beneath his plain white shirt to his face.

Mingyu’s eyebrows are furrowed, more in effort than concentration.

“You good?” Soonyoung asks. He makes sure he’s loud enough for Mingyu to hear him over the music. “I can take over for you if you need.”

“Ah, it’s okay,” he answers, immediately straightening up his back as though Soonyoung’s just caught him doing something he’s not supposed to. “My hand just acts up sometimes.”

“The saw’s not for left-handed people,” Soonyoung points out. Despite’s Mingyu attempt at reassuring him, a flare of protectiveness appears within Soonyoung, lacking a warning. “And why are we using a hand saw anyway? I’ll talk to Seungcheol-hyung after this. We should be able to borrow power tools from the Engineering workshop.”

Mingyu seems taken aback by the outburst, but he still offers Soonyoung a grateful smile while politely declining his suggestion.

“It’s really okay.”

“No, it isn’t,” Soonyoung insists, putting down his pencil and ruler. “Let me see.”

He doesn’t give Mingyu time to give out another rejection before he moves to Mingyu’s other side and takes the saw away from him. Soonyoung turns Mingyu’s now free palm in his hands and begins massaging into the space between his thumb and index finger. The pressure he puts on is light in the beginning, as he doesn’t know how much Mingyu can take from him. Once he’s got the younger used to it, he adds a little bit more power into his movement.

“Oh,” Mingyu’s eyes are fixed on their joined hands, his mouth hanging slightly open. “Oh, that’s—”

“Good?” Soonyoung laughs softly, shifting his direction down to Mingyu's wrist.

He hears a soft sigh. A quiet admission. Mingyu's eyes flutter close and his lashes are probably twice as long as Soonyoung’s. They’re dark in contrast to the silver of his hair, which just makes his already attractive features even more ridiculously attractive. Mingyu opens his eyes and Soonyoung wonders where the hell did that thought come from.

“Yeah, actually,” says Mingyu, generous enough to give Soonyoung a verbal confirmation. “Really good. How did you…?”

“I dance, right? And we get sprains a lot, or sometimes just a stiff muscle. Comes with the major, I suppose,” Soonyoung explains to him, “so we learn to do this a lot for each other.”

Mingyu just nods and lets Soonyoung continue, the older making his way along Mingyu’s forearm. Soonyoung adds more and more pressure as he continues, but what he gives to Mingyu externally seems to melt the internal tension instead. Slow progress is still progress. He makes it all the way to the bend of his elbow when his fingers catch onto something that isn’t skin or fabric.

“What’s this?”

“Nicotine patch,” Mingyu answers him, smiling down at Soonyoung. “I’m trying to stop smoking but it’s hard to do it cold-turkey, so…”

“You’re micro-dosing,” Soonyoung finishes for him. “Until you can quit completely.”

“I guess that’s one word for it.”

Soonyoung releases Mingyu’s hand and reaches up to pat his head once. “Good for you.”

He doesn’t know, truly, if this affinity toward Mingyu comes from wanting to care for someone who is clearly precious to Wonwoo, who is in turn precious to him. Perhaps it is about that. Perhaps it’s about something else entirely, like the softness of Mingyu’s voice when he talks Soonyoung through what he’s supposed to do, the contrast of it with the rough edges he first sees when he looks at Mingyu.

Whatever it is, Soonyoung’s heart warms when Mingyu tells him, “Thank you,” with a cherry on top, “hyung,” while looking just a tad shy.

★ ★ ★

“When I said I didn’t want to spend money…” Wonwoo begins, already with a sigh, “I didn’t mean like this,” he throws his hand around to gesture to the dance studio.

Soonyoung’s managed a last-minute booking for the room and successfully convinced Jihoon to let him borrow a few things from him. With a guarantee—well, it was more of a threat, really—that they should come back to Jihoon fully-functional.

“Are you going to dance for me and call it a date?”

“Give me _some_ credit at least,” says Soonyoung, then he whips out the electric blanket from inside his bag. “I’m not that basic, you see.”

Wonwoo’s eyes widen.

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

Soonyoung lays out the blanket on the floor before he takes the second item he’s borrowed from Jihoon. The small projector is probably Seungcheol's for all he knows, since that hyung is more into this tech stuff than Jihoon is, but it’s been sitting on Jihoon’s study desk for so long Soonyoung can no longer tell who it originally belonged to. It doesn’t matter, anyway. As long as it serves their purpose for the night.

He brings out the small cushions next and Wonwoo starts laughing.

“What _don’t_ you have in that bag?”

“Oh,” Soonyoung wiggles his eyebrows playfully, “wait until I pull out Seokmin’s packed dinner for us.”

“You’re literally using your dongsaeng for your own benefits!” Wonwoo protests, but he makes his way to Soonyoung and flops down above the electric blanket, leaning back on the heels of his palm. “Seokmin’s too nice to be taken advantage of like this.”

“He’s just happy I’m back in the game,” Soonyoung repeats Seokmin’s words to Wonwoo. “Everyone keeps saying _it’s about time_ I feel like should be offended by the remark.”

“No one says that to me.”

“Lucky you.” He stares blankly at his laptop, then back at Wonwoo who’s watching him curiously. “Okay, so, I don’t actually know how to connect the projector.”

“Move,” Wonwoo reaches over him, “You’re so useless.” The way his affection drips from his words in abundance stops Soonyoung from voicing out his protest.

Within minutes, Wonwoo’s set up the projector and angled it toward the ceiling, so they can lie down and watch the screen playing above their heads. He quickly finds a comfortable position without waiting for Soonyoung, only looking over at him to ask what they’re going to watch tonight.

“I was thinking we can marathon Buzzfeed Unsolved. Watch some old gems, catch up on the ones we missed out on.”

They’ve turned off the lights, but Wonwoo lights up the room at his suggestion until Soonyoung has to readjust to the new source of illumination.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” he says lightly.

Wonwoo appears to like the idea so much that he allows Soonyoung to replace the cushion underneath his head with his arm, pillowing Wonwoo on his body instead. He doesn’t even protest when Soonyoung crosses a leg over his own, his attention fully paid toward the True Crime episode playing from the Unsolved playlist Soonyoung’s arranged. The quality of the projection is a bit shitty, Soonyoung thinks, but if the complainer out of the two of them can live with it, he will too.

He listens to the random facts Wonwoo throws in his direction about this crime and that folklore, hums his acknowledgement every so often to let Wonwoo know that he’s still here with him. The electric blanket keeps them both warm, yet Wonwoo still snuggles close to him like he’s trying to steal some body heat from Soonyoung.

His hair, as they tickle the skin right underneath Soonyoung’s chin, smells sweet. Just like the other night.

“This is a nice date,” Wonwoo mumbles out when the screen turns black between their third and fourth episode.

Soonyoung stares at the buffering screen and agrees with the sentiment.

“Thanks,” Wonwoo says again.

It’s not like they don’t do this a lot before, though Soonyoung supposes the setting and connotation is different this time around. Jeonghan is more often than not squeezed in between the two when they’re watching the newest episode together week after week, a routine that’s put on the back seat for a couple of weeks due to their busy schedules.

Soonyoung is a tactile person. He cuddles up to Jeonghan’s side and practically drapes himself all over his hyung whenever he gets the chance. Jeonghan pretends to mind it but he still lets Soonyoung does whatever he wants. In the normal scenario, Wonwoo is excluded from the cuddling narrative. He observes them from a safe distance from the other end of the couch, eyeing Soonyoung warily like he’s afraid Soonyoung might come after him next.

Tonight, for some reason—maybe this can be a topic for the next episode of Unsolved—he shifts to rest his head on Soonyoung’s chest instead of his arm.

The words _Video unavailable. This video is restricted. Try signing in with a Google Apps account_ flash at them. If Wonwoo wants him to fix the error and refresh the page, he knows he has to detach himself from Soonyoung.

He doesn’t move an inch.

Soonyoung's not even sure if he wants Wonwoo to.

They lie under the black screen and let the darkness engulfs them until Soonyoung decides it’s a good time as any to ask Wonwoo some questions.

“I spent the afternoon working with Mingyu,” Soonyoung begins quietly, fingers carding through Wonwoo’s soft locks.

A gesture he hopes is welcomed, one he hopes will provide comfort.

“We were working with saws and he strained his wrist—” Wonwoo’s breath hitches right here, the sound as sharp as a gunshot. “So I offered to massage it for him.”

He can hear their hearts beating in tandem, nothing else.

“Can you tell me a little bit about him?” Soonyoung asks, treading lightly. “Only if you want.”

Wonwoo is unresponsive for a couple of heartbeats and Soonyoung prepares himself for a rejection. But then, Wonwoo bravely breaks the silence and with it the walls he’s built around himself. Soonyoung has to tell his heart not to soar.

“Was it his left one?”

“Hm?”

“The wrist that you said was strained,” Wonwoo repeats, voice small, “was it his left one?”

“Oh, yeah. It was.”

A soft sigh comes from Wonwoo, the reverberation from it travels down Soonyoung’s own body. He holds his reins tight and waits patiently. Soonyoung is more than happy to give Wonwoo the time he needs.

“The neighbours part,” Wonwoo says eventually, “that was true. I lived right next door to him and moved in during summer break. When we first met, he had a broken wrist from playing soccer. The left one. He’s… uh, clumsy. There’s always a new bruise every time we see each other, it seemed.”

He chuckles fondly at the recollection, shaking his head, which leaves Soonyoung reeling at his next words.

“But an artist with a broken dominant hand is an artist who can’t create.”

Soonyoung can’t look at Wonwoo properly at this angle but he’ll bet good money that the younger’s eyes are currently squeezed shut. They are veering away from charted territories and entering the zone of fragility and danger. One false step and Wonwoo will topple over the cliff's edge. To save him from that, Soonyoung brings his hand around Wonwoo’s shoulder. He reels him in.

“Mingyu struggled through recovery because none of his drawings was what they used to be before the accident,” Wonwoo breathes out, shaky. “He often got frustrated and our rooms' windows were right across one another, so I was subjected to a lot of angry thumping until one day I couldn’t take it anymore. I just went over there to scold him.”

“We can stop,” Soonyoung tells him when the pause goes on longer than normal.

One take of a deep, deep breath and Wonwoo finds it within himself to continue. “Mingyu was crying. His parents weren’t home and there were maybe fifty drawings of the oak tree in his backyard scattered on the floor. They looked amazing to me, but obviously, I wasn’t his biggest critique. He was.”

“Did you scold him?” Soonyoung inquires, light.

He hopes it’s enough to alleviate the tension.

It is. A fraction of it—it still counts as a win in Soonyoung’s book.

Wonwoo slaps him lightly on the chest and mutters, “Am I that heartless to you? I was 16 and hormonal but I wasn’t mean.”

His hand doesn’t return to his side after that, instead it flattens over Soonyoung’s left pectoral. He wonders if Wonwoo can sense his heartbeat.

“I helped find things to take this mind off of it and researched alternative ways for him to channel his creativity. We settled with pottery. Clay’s good for therapeutic motor exercises and I think it helped him that I sucked at it, so he could give me a hand and felt even more productive doing so.”

He prompts Wonwoo to continue gently with a singular word, “And?”

“And in the middle of it all,” Wonwoo’s fingers curl vice-tight around Soonyoung’s shirt momentarily, then they uncurl again. “In the middle of it all, we figured out that kissing takes his mind off of his wrist, too.”

His suspicion that there’s more to the story than what appears on the surface is proven to be true. Soonyoung isn’t too surprised by the revelation. He’s seen it coming from the way Wonwoo was acting at the committee meeting the other day. It was half of the reason he agreed to take up the mantle of a boyfriend, fake or not. If something affects Wonwoo to the point that he had to scramble for a lifeline, Soonyoung is not going to be the one denying him help.

In due time, Wonwoo may have to face Mingyu and their past, but for now, Soonyoung will shelter him from the coming storm. It’s the very least he can do as a friend considering all that Wonwoo’s done for him.

Soonyoung resists the urge to place a kiss to the crown of Wonwoo’s head. He ruffles Wonwoo’s hair instead, as the affection that bubbles inside him have to be channelled somehow if he doesn’t want to explode with it.

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“That’s the most you’ve ever said to me in one sitting, I think.”

Probably not true, since Soonyoung has been with a drunk Wonwoo on multiple occasions, but he’s sure it’s not too big of an exaggeration.

Wonwoo tilts his head upward to look at him, incredulous. “You’re thanking me for _that_?”

“Not only that,” Soonyoung smiles and looks away from Wonwoo to hide his relief. He reaches for his laptop to continue the show. “But also for trusting me with the story.”

In return Wonwoo nurtures the quiet once more, yet he melts against Soonyoung side more than he did before and Soonyoung lets him without a single protest in mind.

★ ★ ★

When Wonwoo asked him where he was half an hour ago and didn’t reply after Soonyoung told him the answer, he thought Wonwoo’s just fallen into one of his quick afternoon power naps. He didn’t expect to see Wonwoo walking through the door of the basement studio, coming to pick him up right about when Soonyoung’s done with his work. There’s still a weird air around him and Mingyu, but they nod at each other and exchange tentative smiles.

On impulse, Soonyoung takes both their hands, one in each of his own. “Let’s eat together!”

He knows it’s a harmless suggestion. All three of them have had a long day, Mingyu kept sighing every five minutes or so and there are tired lines on Wonwoo’s face. It’d be nice to sit down and talk, trade complaints about their life while waiting for a good meal.

But Wonwoo’s eyes widen at Soonyoung’s words, half in surprise and the other half in panic. In contrast, Mingyu’s reaction is much more muted. Controlled. He shakes his head gently, though he doesn’t remove Soonyoung’s grip from around his wrist.

“It’s okay, I wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Nonsense,” Soonyoung quickly refutes. “We’d like company, don’t we, Wonwoo-yah?” he turns to Wonwoo, who is still gaping at him, though he doesn’t look too angry. Soonyoung brings his gaze back to Mingyu. “We’re bored of each other already, really. It’d be nice to have you around. My treat.”

“What?” asks Wonwoo suddenly, sounding as baffled as Soonyoung has ever heard him.

“Why do you sound so surprised?”

“You _never_ treat anyone,” he points out.

Soonyoung scoffs playfully and lifts Mingyu’s hand in his. “But I’m his hyung.”

“You’re older than me too,” Wonwoo claims, stubborn. “And you never treated me.”

It’s Soonyoung’s turn to be taken aback. “That’s the first time you ever acknowledge that.”

He likes to tease his friends and Wonwoo’s not excluded from this form of affectionate cajoling. The more Soonyoung pulls the _I was born first_ card while fussing over him, the more Wonwoo refuses to make terms with it.

 _We’re still born in the same year, Soonyoung,_ he would say as he rolls his eyes and dumps more food onto Soonyoung’s plate. It's as though he's trying to prove that he’s just as capable of taking care of Soonyoung as Soonyoung is of him.

“I’d do anything for free food.”

That’s quite a firm answer, isn't it?

Soonyoung just laughs.

“See, Mingyu, that’s the spirit. Come on, what do you say?”

Before he answers, Mingyu glances at Wonwoo. Searches his face for his consent, which Wonwoo gives eventually in the form of a small nod. The corners of his mouth are quirked up in an encouraging form now, no longer as tentative as they were before. Somehow, Soonyoung feels like he’s won at something, though he’s unsure what exactly. Mingyu agrees, grinning his assent away, and Soonyoung wins another prize.

They go to Wonwoo’s favourite shop as he’s the picky eater out of the three of them. Soonyoung is the one who brings this matter up and Mingyu wholeheartedly agrees with him, making Wonwoo walk faster than them in either protest or embarrassment, so there are little skips in their steps as they catch up with him.

It’s no longer as awkward when they finally find a table at the shop. The auntie recognises Soonyoung and even compliments his new hair colour. She takes their order with practised ease, only having to repeat Mingyu’s once to be sure, then leaves them to their own devices after cooing at Wonwoo. Soonyoung does his best to fill in the silence and Wonwoo doesn’t seem to mind. He’s used to this, making Soonyoung do the heavy-lifting when it comes to making small talks.

Mingyu, on the other hand, is noticeably quieter. Lately, he talks a lot when it’s just the two of them. Mingyu talks about anything and everything and Soonyoung is always willing to listen to him, to the point that Minghao occasionally shushes them from the other end of the basement. Mingyu just flips him off when he does this and continue to converse with Soonyoung.

It’s cute, though, because even though he seems to be holding back right now, Mingyu’s eyes shine when their plates are served.

Then he starts _inhaling_ his food and Soonyoung almost loses it.

“This noodle is good, but the way you eat makes me think you were paid to promote this restaurant and the camera’s about to pop up behind us anytime now.”

“He’s always eaten like that,” Wonwoo chuckles lightly, reaching for his glass of tea. “Last-meal-on-Earth style or whatever.”

Mingyu lifts his head to squint his eyes at him. “Don’t you judge me.”

His words would have been more threatening if he hadn’t been speaking with his cheeks all bunched up.

Wonwoo just shrugs. “Never did.”

“I forgot to ask,” says Mingyu, swallowing down the noodle inside his mouth before he asks Wonwoo, “What are you majoring in, hyung?”

“Ooh!” Soonyoung claps his hands like a rather excitable seal. “Tell him.”

He leans back in his seat and stares at Soonyoung. Soonyoung just stares back, offers him the widest smile he can manage without spilling food all over himself. “I never understood why this is amusing to you.”

“It’s not amusing, just interesting.”

“Education,” Wonwoo answers then, the word directed to Mingyu.

“Oh?”

Soonyoung frowns. “You have a very subdued reaction.”

“Sorry, sorry,” Mingyu clears his throat, awkward. He scratches the skin above his eyebrow, his nail leaving a red line despite its bluntness. “Just… that’s very, uh, tangential?”

Here’s the thing. Sometimes Soonyoung’s mouth works faster than his mind and this is one of those moments. Before he can register that Wonwoo’s eyes are flaring in warning, either to Mingyu or Soonyoung himself, the words—the question he’s not meant to ask—have already escaped him.

“To what?”

Silence.

Mingyu avoids looking at the two of them, his attention focused on the bowl of noodle in front of him. Soonyoung waits, unsure whether he should take it back or if that’d make the situation even direr.

“To what I used to like,” Wonwoo replies, flat.

Again—Soonyoung’s mouth seems to have a mind of its own. “Which is?”

Static.

“For—” _get I asked —_

“Writing.”

Okay. This time he actually takes a moment to understand what Wonwoo just said, although it was only one word. He swallows his food properly as this topic seems to be important enough to be warranted his seriousness.

“Like… journalism?”

Wonwoo pauses. “Like, creative writing.”

“Fiction? Dude—” Soonyoung starts coughing when he realises it’s probably not appropriate to refer to his boyfriend with _dude_. He turns to Mingyu to save himself by pretending he was referring to the younger instead. “Seriously?”

Mingyu looks over at Wonwoo. Soonyoung doesn’t know what he finds there, but it appears to be whatever he’s looking for. The tension dissipates from the lines of his shoulders and Mingyu asks, “I mean, does it classify as fiction though?”

“I write stories, too.”

“ _Too_?” Soonyoung whispers conspiratorially. How does he not know this before?

“Fine,” Wonwoo huffs in defeat. “There might have been poetry here and there.”

“Wonwoo.” His tone is just downright scandalous now. “How could you keep such a big secret from me?”

It’s pretty, Soonyoung has half a thought, the tinge of pink dusting Wonwoo’s pale cheeks. Almost the same shade with his lips; not fully visible at the moment as they are pressed thinly together—as to show Wonwoo’s disagreement over the prospect of letting Soonyoung in on this particular aspect of his life.

“You’d make a fuss out of it.”

“But…” Soonyoung is still trying to process. “What happened to that flame of passion?”

“Extinguished.”

“Rough,” he answers, automated. Stupid. “By what?”

“Reality,” Wonwoo answers him curtly, probably his way of telling Soonyoung that this will be the end of the conversation. Still, he’s generous enough to elaborate. “Doesn’t pay as much to write words down from inside my head.”

Soonyoung reaches across the table for Mingyu, who jolts when Soonyoung’s hand come to wrap around his wrist. His left wrist. Soonyoung makes sure his touch is delicate, but Mingyu’s gaze fixes on their point of contact and doesn’t move away until Soonyoung asks him a question.

“Was he good?”

He’d ask Wonwoo but it’s doubtful that he’ll get a straight answer out of him.

“Uh?”

“His writing,” he cocks his head in Wonwoo’s direction. “Was it any good?”

Mingyu’s smile is soft, fond. Wonwoo is looking away from them, the flush colouring his face getting much worse now. Pretty, Soonyoung thinks idly.

“Yeah,” comes Mingyu’s answer, his voice as soft as his smile. “It was really good.”

Poetry, huh?

Soonyoung decides right there and then to make it his mission to one day make Wonwoo allow him the pleasure of reading his work. He crosses his fingers and leaves the conversation be, deeming it enough torture for Wonwoo already.

In his quiet Mingyu finds the courage to carry the conversation. His trail of thought comes at an incredible speed and with excessive gesticulations—until Mingyu’s sleeve rides up to his elbow and Wonwoo catches sight of the nicotine patch he’s wearing.

“Oh, you switched?”

“I didn’t buy more since that night,” Mingyu nods.

Wonwoo smiles, teeth all showing and eyes crinkling at the corners. Stuffing his mouth full of noodle, Soonyoung tries to gauge how this entire thing makes him feel—the fact that Mingyu knows something about Wonwoo that he doesn’t, the fact that they probably had a deep bond unbroken by their years of separation, the fact that Mingyu probably quit smoking because Wonwoo asked him to. Soonyoung’s not the type to be possessive of his friends, but he doesn’t like being… _left out_ like this.

The twinge in Soonyoung’s chest disappears when Wonwoo turns to him and the intensity of the smile doesn’t diminish; not even one per cent.

“Eat up,” says Wonwoo.

Soonyoung does as he’s told.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...this is unedited because if I postpone publishing it, it'll never get published so I shall be back to edit the grammatical mistakes/error :3

**Author's Note:**

> all mistakes are as always, mine hshs
> 
> [cc](curiouscat.me/bloominsummer) <3


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